In the end, Pam ended up getting her way. She ended up taking Eric and Sarah the Harlot (an apt title as far as Pam's concerned) far fucking away from Louisiana and all the misery that little bayou ever inflicted on her and her Maker. Now, with her resting her head in Eric's lap as he casually browses on his phone (probably double checking his credit card balance after Pam went on that atrocious online shopping spree), she can't believe the last two years were even fucking real.

Her mind - in its endless glory - simply cannot wrap itself around the fact that her Viking vampire god and Maker had somehow become so utterly enraptured with a little gap toothed half-fairy that he'd nearly thrown her away. Now, Pam had a healthy ego from the decades spent watching men and women drool over her very form, so when she discovered that Eric's eyes had suddenly drifted elsewhere, she didn't really mind. Because in the end, he always came back to her.

Always.

Only somehow, Pam grimaced, Sookie Stackhouse (were her parents co-founders of the Pancake House?) with her fairy blood and naive bravery had been a point of curiosity in the eyes of her Maker - and he'd pounced on her the second she'd walked into the club. It had started out as a mild curiosity that he'd wanted to sate but had never become obsessive about; because back then - before the fucking witch -, Eric would still slide into her coffin at dawn, whispering arrogance and profanity and utter fucking charm into her ear whilst she lashed back at him with kitten claws and saber teeth. They'd fuck at dusk, run Fangtasia until the twilight came, and then fuck some more before talking about whatever floated their twisted fancy.

But then he'd lost his mother fucking memory and hugged onto Sookie like she was his long lost mother. It'd cut Pam like a knife to know that Eric wouldn't be safe with his own progeny, to know that the only man she'd ever truly found herself at the mercy of would have to reside with a human fairy while Buffalo Bill went around batshit crazy and on the wildest sober acid trip on the fucking planet…that just about killed Pam.

"Pamela, how many times do I have to apologize for being blinded by what I could not have?" Eric suddenly inquires, his voice a lazy drawl but tinged with a kind of repressed grief that Pam knew all too well.

She shrugged as best as she could lying down. "Don't know, but you'll earn more brownie points by putting that phone away and making me a member of the mile high club." she smirked as she shifted positions, rising and then spinning around so that she was straddling her overgrown Maker and lover.

He eyed her with amusement and irritation. "You can't possibly pull that excuse out every time I look to see that you've maxed out yet another card."

"Why not? You always pull the 'I'm your Maker' bullshit every time I'm right."

He glared at her. "Pamela, if I have to remind you of the power I wield over you then cheri, you are most certainly not right."

"Yeah, cause I was so wrong in saving your ass that you just had to pull out the 'I'm gonna kill you' card." she bit back sarcastically, withdrawing her hands from his hair and crossing her arms petulantly as she raised a brow in pure spite. "That's the last time I'm letting you go near a fairy because whatever odor they give off must send idiot men running towards them."

"Then it's a very good thing I just happen to be one of the greatest intellectuals around," he countered easily, gently pulling her arms away from her chest and wrapping them around his neck, a sly smile on his face. "Come now, raring, must we fight? I've given into your demands into commercializing New Blood by taking you to that blasted smog town they have the audacity to call the City of Angels…the least you can do is repay me with forgiveness." his blue eyes sparkled with mischief but there was an underlying pain that came with the knowledge that his lovely Pamela was correct. He'd fucked up so badly in Louisiana that he didn't think he'd ever be able to look at his progeny without wanting to take her into his arms and beg for her forgiveness.

And Eric Northman didn't beg. Ever.

Not even for Sookie.

Sensing Pam's displeasure at his minor flickering of thought towards the half-fairy, he pulled her in closer so that their lips were only centimeters apart and her chest pressed to his. "I won't scold you about spending a fortune at Rodeo Drive if you'll smile for me, hjärtat."

Pam's pout stayed in place but Eric could sense her pain fading, being pushed back until it gradually diminished into a faint black plume, simmering into obscurity. In its place, a white hot smoke of amusement began to erupt and it filled Eric's very being with relief and love. Love for his dear spoiled progeny whose sapphire eyes were as clear as the jewels she so loved and whose heart had taken enough of a beating to last several lifetimes. He wanted to mold his very own soul into hers for he'd realized that Sookie Stackhouse he could live without but Pamela…his Pamela, she was a necessity he needed as desperately as blood.

Pam nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he thought, his hand stroking her hair; soft and bouncy golden curls that he knew she'd spent a good forty minutes curling into perfection because his älskade knew he loved her hair in these golden coifs.

She knew him better than anyone, now that Godric was gone, and he'd entrusted her with more of his heart than he had with Nora because somewhere in the depth of time, Pamela had become his lifeline - his whole world - and he knew perfectly well she'd spend the next century reminding him of this (not that he'd ever, ever forget) through various methods of torture that only she could find amusing.

"Eric?"

"Hm?"

"I'll stop reminding you of your idiocy if you'll come with me to Rodeo Drive and promise you'll be the best pack mule a girl's ever had." he knew she had a wicked grin on her face without even looking and he chuckled lightly, deciding to indulge her as he should have during these last two years (and for many more centuries to come).

"Your command is duly noted, min älskade." he replied, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, and Eric?"

"Yes?"

"You're coming with me to those Hollywood premieres too."

"Pamela - "

"And your two other American Express cards are maxed out as well. Just thought you should know before you move onto the Visa bills." she added with a cheeky grin.

My spoiled little princess, Eric mused as he flicked a golden curl of hers in faux exasperation, whilst truthfully, he would allow his älskling to spend away all the fortunes of the world - if only to remind her of his unfaltering love.


A/N: I'm not Swedish so I did as most would do and opened up Google Translate - all you Swedes, please don't come with torches lit, I'm sorry!

Oh, and who here loves Eric and Pam? I do! I take their Maker/Child relationship to go well beyond the surface because at the core, I feel like they're soul mates in more ways than one. Oh, and I also really, really don't like Sookie. She's like Elena but about 500 times more self entitled and with a large gaping hole in her head where logic/self survival should be.

Review (it's my first foray into the True Blood world so please tell me how I did!).